


Stowaway

by My_floaty_coaty_boy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-15 17:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15418290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_floaty_coaty_boy/pseuds/My_floaty_coaty_boy
Summary: Dean first met Castiel in a crater in the forest on the outskirts of town. He takes the Angel homw with him and quickly a friendship forms between them. Then, it becomes something more. But while Dean is batteling to keep the ANgel's true identity a secret, Castiel is fighting a whole other war--or rather, stopping one from starting. The catch? He only has a year.





	1. Chapter 1

“Dean! Wake _up!”_ Sam’s voice drifted up the stairs, through Dean’s bedroom door, and Dean felt his eyes slip open. The glaring light from his phone screen (the lowest brightness was still too much for his poor sleep-addled body) displayed that the time was 7:30. It was lying, surely. It was a traitor. Mornings were simply not allowed to come so soon, especially not _Tuesday_ mornings. That was not allowed. Especially not _Fourth-of-October_ mornings, all dark and broody. No.

Dean wasn’t even thinking when he pulled himself into the bathroom, clutching his outfit for the day and brushing his teeth on autopilot. He was downstairs, coffee mug in hand, before he even truly woke up.

“Mornin’, Sammy.” His voice was rough with sleep, but his brother was bright-eyed and hungry.

Dean and Sam Winchester were brothers, Dean four years older. But they weren’t just blood-relatives; They were best friends. Confidants. They told each other everything—They had to. It was just them, most days, Dean caring for Sam while keeping up with his own school work. They were a team—always had been, always would be. When Sam was hungry, Dean made food. When Dean was angry, Sam rolled his eyes and helped him calm himself.

When Dean was four, a demon--a literal black-eyed, smoke-filled _demon_ burned their house to the ground. Dean had been the one to pull baby Sammy from the flames, just as their father, John, had done for their mother, Mary. That’s how they learned about their mother’s job. They learned, that day, about the creatures that lived and thrived by human suffering. The monsters that lived in the shadows, under beds, and in the corner of your eye.

Miraculously, all four of them survived. Their mother continued hunting, not one to give up after a setback, and their father travelleed all over for his work as an engineer. Nowadays Dean would pick up hours at his uncle Bobby's autoshop with the knowledge his fatehr had taught him, but his main focuses were Sammy, and school. Their parents' work meant that most days it was just him and Sam, in their little routine: Wake up, eat, drive to Lawrence High, suffer through the day, maybe meet up with their friends at the Roadhouse, go home, maybe watch something, and then sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat. That’s the way it was. That’s how Dean liked it.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want adventure, of course he did, but, for now? He was happy to make sure Sam kept his grades up.

Sam was a freshman, Dean was a senior. Sam was a bit of a nerd, and Dean had realised years ago that high-school labels were made up by teen movies to pit them against each other based on Hollywood beauty standards. Really, the only goal was for everyone to survive, and creating barriers around your own groups based on your perceived intelligence or how often you got drunk or smoked or got As on a test was the dumbest thing you could do for yourself.

Sam hung out in the library. Dean hung out on the football field or in the canteen with their friends.

           That morning, a grey and boring Tuesday in the beginning of October, was just like every other. Dean bundled his brother in the car, a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. It was their father’s car, given to Dean when he’d passed his test, and it was both Dean and John’s pride and joy. Dean longed to take a road trip in her, one day, maybe with Sam, or a few of his friends. Around America, stopping in every state. In truth, Dean wanted to help people. Hunt monsters, like his mother did: the family business. But he had to graduate first.

           So, they jumped in the car and drove to Lawrence High. The front of the building was brown, the parking lot grey and dull. The only splash of any colour that wasn’t a shade of beige was the dark red sign above the entrance, as if they needed a reminder of where they were.

They went their separate ways once inside the building, Sam yelling a reminder about his afterschool club of the day: Robotics. Dean waved him off and headed to homeroom.

“Winchester!” Charlie, his best friend since forever, greeted him in her usual manner: Loud, and grinning, and with a Star Trek ‘live long’ sign. When he sat next to her, she spoke. “Found any aliens today?”

Charlie had found out about Mary Winchester’s work sometime about four years ago: Dean and Charlie had been playing the new Batman game while babysitting Sam when Mary had come home, covered in blood (most of it not her own,) and complaining about how werewolves flared up her fur allergy. Charlie had been shocked and scared, at first, but Dean had explained rapidly, too afraid of losing his friend to make up some story featuring his mom’s (non-existent) veterinary degree.

He’d just told her.

And she’d acclimatised quickly, surprisingly. She already loved Mary, and how she had another reason to.

“ _There’s not enough female badasses in nerd culture, boys. Your mom is like Buffy IRL!”_ she’d said. Dean couldn’t fault that.

           “I thought I had, but it was just you!”

           She rolled her eyes and snorted.

The school day was unremarkable; the Winchester brothers went to (most) of their classes (Dean bunked fourth period for no reason other than he could.) They spent lunch with their respective friend groups, Dean greeting Charlie, Ash, and Jo at the table when he sat down, leaving a space for Benny if he decided to tear himself from his girlfriend, Andrea.

After the final class had been dismissed, Sam headed to the robotics club. Dean went for a drive after Sam texted him a quick, ‘ _Pick me up in an hour?’_

           For a reason that escaped him, or maybe no reason at all, Dean decided to take the scenic route around Lawrence. Rural lanes, the dirt tracks. He needed a good drive, something to clear his head and quell his nerves. Why was he worked up? He didn’t know. But something was in the shadows of his mind, under his skin, in the corner of his eye. A long drive home would settle him.

           Except, that wasn’t what happened. Instead, he’d made it to the outskirts of a wooded area, one he’d been in many times, mostly on Easter egg hunts with Sam and their parents. He’d slowed, because deer lived in that forest and the last thing he wanted was to get his car trashed. It was October, so it was already getting dark.

           That was when it happened. Something bright, something _blinding_ , shot from the sky with a deafening whistle, almost a scream. Dean swerved, not to avoid it; it was way too far away for that, but simply because the sound and lights meant he couldn’t keep driving. He pulled over just to see it land somewhere in the forest. He put the car in park and like a reckless Marvel origin story, he ran after it.

 _Why am I doing this? What could this possibly achieve? I should just turn around and go! Get back to the car and wait for Sammy to come home! Turn around, Winchester!_ The thoughts swirled around his head like a washing machine on a spin cycle, but his feet carried him towards the crashed object as fast as they could. He saw its trail through the undergrowth: wide, dark, scorched, leaving fallen trees in its wake. It was deep. It was surreal.

           _What meteor falls in_ Kansas _?_

He found the crater in a clearing. Or, it was a clearing _now_ . It was large, ten-foot radius maybe, and deep. It was not empty, but instead of a hunk of space-rock or whatever Dean thought it could have been, (honestly, he hadn’t even thought that far,) he definitely wasn’t expecting _this_.

           A boy. His age, or there about, with space-dark hair and tanned skin. Too much tanned skin.--he was naked, head-to-toe, like the day he’d been born. Except, maybe he hadn’t been born. He’d come from space after all, and, oh yeah, the wings didn't look to human either.

           Protruding from his shoulder blades were two large, black, feathered _wings_. Like a bird. Dean gaped as the boy rolled over, his side and belly _covered_ in dirt and blood and thorns. He looked up at Dean, eyes wide and a thin sheen of sweat clinging to him.

           Those _eyes_. Blue as the sky, or the ocean, or whatever other blue things existed in the world and right now, they were _glowing_.

           “H…Hello!” The boy called as his eyes faded their ethereal glow to something a tad closer to normal. His voice was low, broken, like he hadn’t used it in a long time. “C-could you possibly tell me…well… Where are we?”

           He definitely wasn’t human.


	2. Chapter 2

“What the  _ fuck _ …” Dean’s brain couldn’t seem to kick itself into gear. Everything was slow, subdued.

“Excuse me, do…Do you speak English? Are we in an English-speaking country? I probably shouldn’t have assumed that…uh... _Espanol? Deutsch?_ _العَرَبِيَّة ?_ ” The boy-- _Alien_ kept talking, and it snapped Dean into the present. The… _thing_ scrambled up to his feet, stumbling slightly as if he weren’t used to using them. Dean waved his hands and looked away, suddenly spluttering.

“Woah, woah, man, don’t move. I don’t wanna get an eyeful of Alien-junk!”

The boy stilled as asked. “Hello!” He was smiling like this was completely normal, and Dean sighed and tugged off his flannel over shirt, throwing it down to the kid.

“Tie this around your waist, cover up.”

The boy’s head tilted to the side like a confused cat, but he did as asked after a few moments of fumbling. Dean brought his hands down and looked at the thing again.

“Hello!” He said again.

Dean gaped. “Uh…hi.”

“This must be pretty unexpected for you, right? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Yeah, right. In his time, Dean had seen werewolves, and vampires, and shifters, even a demon, once. This kid, though his entrance had caught Dean by surprise, wasn’t scary.

“I’m Castiel. I’m an Angel of the Lord. What’s your name?”

Dean blinked. “Angels don’t exist.”

“Yes, they do, I am one.” As if to prove his point, Castiel’s wings shook themselves.

Dean wasn’t ready to believe him yet, but he moved on. “… _If_ you’re an Angel, which by the way, you shouldn’t just go around tellin’ everyone you meet that,  why are you here?”

Castiel began to move to the edge of the crater, pulling himself up. Dean, mostly on reflex, offered him a hand. Castiel took it and, once on level ground with Dean smiled again. He didn’t let go of Dean’s hand, so Dean pulled away, stepping back. Castiel moved to follow, so Dean stepped back more, and Castiel followed, so Dean put his hands out to keep the Angel where he was. “Personal space, Cas.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed. “What’s ‘personal space’? Why did you call me ‘Cas’—my name is Cas _tiel_.”

Dean huffed. He hadn’t even realised he’d done that. “It’s a nickname, and personal space is…this,” he gestured around himself, “it’s the space we need away from other people to feel comfortable, I guess.”

Castiel nodded. “Is your name Nick?”

Dean squinted in confusion, but quickly realised to what Castiel was referring. “No, no, a nickname is what we call a short version of someone’s name. My name is Dean.”

Castiel grinned again. “Hello, Dean.”

Mary Winchester hunted monsters because if she didn’t, they’d hurt people. Dean Winchester could see that Castiel wasn’t going to hurt anyone—he could barely _walk_. So Dean took the so-called Angel back to his car, helping him adjust to walking.

When he asked, Castiel explained. “I’ve never taken a human vessel before. They’re complicated.”

“A-A vessel? You’re _possessing_ somebody?” Demons did that, Dean knew. He dropped his hands and Castiel staggered before turning back to him.

“Jimmy consented, Angels can’t take a vessel unless it’s consensual. He was homeless, he…he wanted something better. I promised he’d have it, if he let me in. His soul was bright, trusting. I fully intend to give him what he wants, after all this.” Castiel looked at him as if he could see right to Dean’s core. “You have a nice soul, Dean.”

Dean looked at him. “You can see my soul?”

“I can only see souls, not your physical vessels. Yours is bright, and good. Thank you for helping me.”

“Who said I was helping you? I just don’t want you walkin’ around Lawrence, _Naked and Afraid_ -style.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed, but Dean waved him off. They’d reached the Impala, and Dean opened the trunk, pulling out a long trench coat, left by one of John Winchester’s friends. He threw it at Castiel, who caught it, only fumbling a little.

“Put that on and get in the car.” Dean watched Castiel as the Angel looked over the coat, trying to work out how to put it on. “Hey, listen, man, your wings. They’re not gonna fit in the car. Or under that coat, to be fair.”

Castiel’s eyes snapped up at him, then at the car, surveying the area inside. He seemed to reach the same conclusion, and in the time it took Dean to blink, the wings were gone. Castiel shrugged the coat on and gently tugged at the passenger door handle, as if unsure of what he was supposed to do. When the door opened, he smiled to himself widely and slid inside.

Dean huffed in amusement and mirrored him, twisting the key in the ignition and pulling away from the side of the road.

The radio woke itself up when the engine started, filling the air with Metallica’s _Nothing Else Matters_. Castiel’s eyes were wide, staring at the speaker.

“What’s that?”

“Metallica, Cas. Music. What, they don’t have music in Heaven?” _Or wherever you’re from?_

Castiel shook his head. “Maybe, in some people’s. Everyone’s is different. None that I’ve ever been to, though.”

“That sucks, man. I guess I’ve got a lotta educatin’ to do.” He nudged the volume up. “Listen an’ learn, Cas.”

The ride home was eventful, to say the least. Castiel asked questions about everything—the car, the town, Dean.

“Do you have a family, Dean?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do. It’s me, my brother, our parents when they’re home. What about you?”

“My siblings are the Angels; our Father is God, but no-one has seen him in millenia. Although, I have some that I am closer to, I suppose. Gabriel taught me how to fly. Michael taught me how to fight. Are you close to your family, Dean?”

“Yeah, me an’ Sammy—that’s my brother—we’re close, and my parents aren’t around much, but it’s not like we fight a lot.”

Castiel nodded like he’d said something profound and deep, and looked out of the window as the car pulled up the Winchester’s driveway _._ “I have to go pick Sam up from school, so I need you to stay in the basement until I get you.”

“Basement?” And with that one word, Dean knew he’d have his work cut out for him. He rolled his eyes and got out, and Castiel copied him and followed into the house, down to a room Dean had christened the ‘Batcave’. It had a pullout couch for when Dean or Sam’s friends stayed, and an old TV/DVD/VCR combo player, hooked up to an old Playstation 2, flanked by a box of older consoles and games. Dean preferred older games, and if they felt like playing something more recent, Ash or Charlie probably had anything they could possibly want. Dean didn’t have a lot of money, but the money he did save was spent on Roadhouse burgers and old games.

“You can stay here. Take a shower, I’ll make you some food. You stink and you’re probably hungry.”

“I’ve never eaten food before. Angel’s don’t need to. Is it good?”

Dean snorted. “Not to boast, but I like to think mine is. C’mon, I’ll teach you how to use the shower.”

It turned out that teaching someone how to do things you’d never even thought about was a lot harder than Dean had first thought. Castiel asked questions—a  _ lot _ of questions. Why did he need to wash, where did the water come from, what was shampoo and what was it made of, how did he turn the shower off, who invented it?

Dean answered everything he could as patiently as he could, but patience wasn’t exactly his biggest virtue. Castiel was oblivious about humanity, and what it entailed day-to-day. Dean tried to ask about Heaven, but Castiel dodged his questions with his own. Eventually, Castiel felt secure enough in his knowledge of the ‘Human vessel maintenance routine’ that Dean could leave him and prepare the quickest and best introduction to the human diet—grilled cheese.

Castiel emerged, twenty minutes later, clad in the sweat pants and threadbare AC/DC shirt Dean had left for him. Dean gave him the toasted cheese, smiling.

“I’m gonna go pick up Sam. When you’ve eaten all you want to, put the plate in the kitchen and go to the basement. I’ll be back soon.”

Castiel nodded.

Dean left, praying that the house would still be there when he got back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psst, if U comment and tell me what your thinking abt this, i'll release chapters faster!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just fyi: Im aromantic/asexual (ish, it's complicated,) so writing ships is...weird, for me. IDK if you've read my other fics, but if you have, you might have noticed a trend: they're not very romance/fluffy, because i find it difficult to write (but i try my best). Why am i telling u this? Because someone complained to me, on tumblr, (@whynotdosomethinggreat) about it. So, as Destiel progresses in this fic, some readers might find a problem with the romantic interaction. by all means, give me feedback, please, i love it, but be constructive, please!

Dean was awoken rudely by a stone grip on his shoulders and a harsh whisper.

“ _ Dean! Dean—” _

He pushed the Angel away, glaring up at him. “What...Cas? What do you want?” Castiel shuffled backwards a bit, sitting on his feet on Dean’s bed.

Castiel huffed a sigh that sounded a lot like relief. “You weren’t moving, your breathing was different, i-it—”

“I was asleep, Cas! You know, that  _ thing  _ that  _ people _ do at night?” Dean hissed angrily.

Castiel, to his credit, looked sheepish. “…Oh. Sleeping is…something humans do. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know, and I panicked, I…I’m sorry…”

“Angels don’t sleep?”

“We have no need. Our power, our Grace, it means that we don’t need to sleep or eat or partake in your mundane little daily rituals. Although, I must say, I find I enjoy your food.”

Dean sighed, flopping back under his sheets. “I’m gonna go back to sleep, Cas. I have school tomorrow. We can talk in the morning.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean fit Castiel into his routine. He would get up before Sam, make three breakfasts and bring one down to Castiel in the basement, and be back up before Sam was in the kitchen. Then the Winchesters would go to school. Then, hours later, come back. Dean would shut himself in the basement with a pretence of homework, or a new show or game he wanted to finish. In reality, he would teach Castiel about humanity. He’d bring him food, or play games with him, or give him books or DVD boxsets so he could absorb as much culture as a teenage boy needed. He’d tell him stories about his friends and school, even going so far as trying to introduce him to humour. (It was difficult.)

Castiel taught him about his powers. He could fly, but it was more like teleportation. He zapped around the basement, and then all around the house when Sam wasn’t home. He could summon objects, and when Dean got a papercut, Castiel poked him lightly and suddenly it was healed. It was amazing, and Dean was certain that Cas wasn’t the kind of threat Mary Winchester hunted.

So, a week later, when Castiel had somewhat-adjusted to his human body and life in the basement, he brought up something that had been on his mind for a few days.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” Dean paused the level and the menu of Crash Bandicoot 2 appeared on the screen.

“Can…Can I come with you to your school? It sounds interesting and I’d like to see. I’d like to meet your friends.”

Dean looked at the Angel, deep in thought. “Cas, you can’t just show up on school grounds. If you want, you can come to the Roadhouse with us on Friday. But you don’t wanna go with me to school, man. Too risky.”

“Please?”

“Why are you do desperate for this, Cas?” Dean raised his voice, and realised about half way through his question that he should be being quiet

“I just want to know about your life. I want to know about human life. It’s why I’m here.”

“What does that mean, Cas? You’ve been here for days and I still don’t know why you came to Earth!”

Castiel’s brow furrowed angrily, and he spoke. “I…I was banished, temporarily. A prison sentence, confined to a human body on Earth. I rebelled from my higher-ups, and to shut me up, they cast me out to spend a year on Earth, to see what humans lived like. Then I’d go back willingly. I have to stay for a year, Dean. I don’t want the humans to die, but if the others get their way, Earth will be the site of the largest Angelic battle in history. I rebelled, disagreed, and they sent me here to learn everything I can about you. If I can convince them that you are good, that humans are not without worth, then I can convince them that the Earth is worth saving. I’ve wanted to be here for for centuries, and now I can’t enjoy it because I have to save it. Please. Heaven isn’t like here. You, you go about your life any way you please. You talk to whoever you want, eat what you want, do what makes you happy. In heaven, I am a soldier. I fight Heaven’s wars, kill my siblings because someone makes me. I just want one year, Dean. One year of freedom, to learn and show them how wonderful I know it can be, then I go back.”

Dean looked at Castiel, maybe for the first time since that first day. He was scared. Alone, on Earth, a place he didn’t know, with no one and nothing to his name but the burden of an entire world. He needed help.

“You can’t go to school, Cas. But I promise, from now on, you can experience every other aspect of being a human. I’ll help you. We’ll save the world together.”

~*~*~*~~*~*~*

On Thursday, nine days after Castiel had landed on Earth, Dean and Sam left for school just like they had every day for years. Only this time, they were being followed.

The car pulled to a stop in Lawrence High parking lot, and Sam shouldered his backpack and ran inside before Dean even got out, shouting a quick ‘see you later’ back at his brother. Dean rolled his eyes and started his own trek into the building. In the corner of his eye, something moved.

His instincts as a semi-trained hunter kicked in and he span to face the empty lot. His eyes scanned the land and revealed nothing. An old chip packet blew across the lot, carried on the early morning breeze like a stick down a river. So, he turned back and went inside.

It was during homeroom that Dean saw Castiel, through the window in the door of the classroom. He went cold, his eyes widened, and Charlie instantly spotted him, following his gaze.

“Who’s  _ that _ ? Dean?” She asked, but either Dean didn’t hear it or didn’t respond because suddenly he was up and through the doors, ignoring the shout of his teacher following him. Dean grabbed Castiel’s trench coat-clad arm, tugging him into an empty supply closet.

“ _ What the fuck, Cas _ ?” He hissed, not caring when he pushed the Angel backwards lightly into the wall. “Why are you here? I thought I told you you couldn’t come here?”

“I-I just wanted to see! No one else saw me! I was going to go, I promise, I just wanted to see!” Castiel insisted, eyes wide and wet.

“What if someone  _ had  _ seen you? A teacher? What would you do, then?”

“I-I don’t—”

“No, Cas, because you don’t know  _ anything _ ! You didn’t think, and you put yourself in danger.”

“I’m sorry, Dean…” Castiel hung his head, not even fighting Dean’s harsh words.

Dean, seeing the Angel’s saddened state, relaxed. “…It’s OK. Luckily, I was the first person to see you. Cas, do you  _ really _ want to be here, at school?”

“ _ Yes _ .”

That one word, said with more conviction than Dean had ever heard from the Angel, made it clear that Castiel wasn’t going to let this go. Dean sighed, and nodded, wiping his face with his hand. “OK. OK, then. I-I’ll enrol you, I guess. We can say you’re a foreign exchange or something. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

Dean was too busy thinking about Castiel’s cover story that he didn’t notice that the Angel was grinning widely. Suddenly, Dean was being hugged. “Thank you! Dean, thank you so much!”

Dean struggled out of the grip, looking at Castiel through suspicious eyes. “Where did you learn to hug, Cas?”

“…You and Sam hug when something important happens. You got a phone call from your mother and Sam hugged you. I…I thought humans did it when they were happy. Did…Did I misread the situation? I’m sorry if—”

Dean chuckled. “No, no, Cas, it’s fine. I was just…y’know what, it doesn’t matter. You go, I’ll enrol you into senior year tonight, it might take a few weeks though.” Suddenly he was aware that Castiel’s face was very close to his own.

Castiel nodded, still smiling as he finally pulled away. “I’ll leave you to your day, then, Dean.”

Dean blinked, and Castiel was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment pls it means i do stuff


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyy, 4 chapters, aren't you lucky! enjoy!

They’d just pulled into their driveway when Sam brought it up.

“Dean, who’s the guy in our basement?”

Dean was caught so off-guard that he nearly forgot to reply. “What do you mean, Sammy?”

“It’s Sam. And don’t play dumb, Dean, I know you take food down there, and I hear you talking to him. And, the other day, I saw him sneak into the kitchen.”

Sure, Angel’s didn’t need to eat, but Castiel had found that not only did his vessel need to while it was still housing Jimmy, it was also a hobby he enjoyed. He also enjoyed sneaking around, apparently. So _that’s_ where their cookies had gone.

Dean sighed heavily and got out the car, leaving Sam to follow him as he led them inside.

“ _Cas_! Come out, we’re home!” Dean called as he toed off his shoes, leaving them by the door. Sam did the same and Castiel emerged from the basement, eying Sam curiously. “Sam, this is Castiel, a friend of mine. Cas, this is Sam, my brother.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sam.” Castiel smiled. Sam, despite being years younger than Dean, was almost as tall as Castiel.

“Yeah, sure. Why are you staying in out basement, and why have I never heard of you?” Sam questioned, aiming his queries more at Dean than Cas.

Dean’s brain racked for an answer, clutching at the first one that supplied itself. “Cas an’ I were pen pals, for a project last year. It was kinda lame, so I didn’t tell you, but Cas...he got kicked out of his home, a few weeks ago. I was the first person he thought of ‘cause we still talked, so he came over here. He’s been staying in the basement in case Dad came home.”

“And you didn’t tell me? Why’d you get kicked out?” This last was addressed to Castiel, who opened his mouth to answer, but Dean interrupted. The Angel hadn’t quite got the hang of lying yet.

“Ah, he—he came out. His parents didn’t accept him. I didn’t tell you ‘cause…uh…”

“B-Because I asked him not to!” Castiel finished, smiling at Sam. “I-I was…adjusting, and I wasn’t in the right mind to meet new people. I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam nodded, any suspicion leaving quickly. “Ah. I’m…I’m sorry, that must’ve been rough. Well, you’re here now, so no more hiding in the basement, yeah? It’s creepy. Will you be going to Lawrence High?”

Castiel beamed. “Yes.” 

“We’re gettin’ Bobby to fill the forms out, I dunno exactly how it all works.”

Sam nodded, and pushed past them to the kitchen. Castiel looked at Dean, brow furrowed. “ _ What does ‘come out’ mean _ ?” He whispered, mindful to keep this conversation away from Sam.

“Uh,” Dean fumbled, searching for a way to explain that Castiel could understand. “it’s when you tell the people you know that you’re not…straight, o-or…whatever.”

Castiel’s expression soured further, so Dean huffed. “God, I wish Char were here, she’d explain so much better--OK, so, most people kinda…assume that everyone around them is heterosexual—feels attraction to the opposite sex. People who aren’t straight…sometimes…have to tell people that they’re…gay, o-or bi, or whatever. Some people don’t…react to well. It’s…it’s kinda messed up.”

“Why does it matter to the other people?”

“It shouldn’t. But, some people can’t mind their own business, I guess.”

Castiel looked at his shoes, thinking hard as Dean led him to the kitchen. “I…I think I understand. I don’t think I have a preference for gender. Or…much attraction to anyone at all, to be honest.”

Dean grunted noncommittedly. “Gender is a whole other ballpark, buddy. I’ll introduce you to Charlie some time, you can ask her. Just one of the many nuanced joys of humanity. A-and...for the record, I don’t have much of a preference either, but…don’t--don’t _tell_ anyone. Only Charlie knows.”

“You don’t want to…come out, then?” Castiel whispered, and Dean nodded. “You mention Charlie a lot,” Castiel changed the subject when Sam came into earshot, “I think I’d like to meet her, and your other friends.”

Sam snorted, “good luck.”

Dean hit him over the head lightly and busied himself with making dinner for the three of them.

Dean and Castiel had filled out the forms that night, acting on advice from Bobby Singer, Sam and Dean’s kinda-sorta uncle who occasionally helped Mary on hunts. Dean described his job as the ‘guy in the chair’, a sort of mediator for several hunters all across America. 

The forms were fairly easy, but it did mean they had to come up with a last name. They settled on ‘Novak’, the last name of Castiel’s vessel. The enrolment form was submitted the same night, and Bobby said he’d pull some strings to get the (totally human) Castiel into the school as quick as possible.

Dean didn’t know if Castiel slept that night, but he did know that the Angel was happy.

“Morning, Castiel!” Sam grinned as the Angel trudged up the stairs from the basement.

Castiel groaned and walked straight for the coffee Dean offered him. For an Angel who didn’t need sleep, Castiel hated mornings.

“Didja sleep, Cas?”

“A bit.” Sam dumped his empty bowl in the sink and disappeared out the door, gathering his books for the day. Once out of earshot, Castiel continued. “Sleep is exhausting, how do you do it?”

“I thought you said Angels didn’t need sleep?”

“Angels don’t. Vessels, apparently, do. I need to partake I everything that would sustain a human body while Jimmy is still occupying his body.”

“Uh-huh,” Dean hummed, placing a bowl of cereal in front of him, before busying himself preparing for the school day. “Better eat, then.”

Before they left, Dean turned to Castiel. “Listen, you wanna come to the roadhouse tonight? Me an’ Sam are gonna meet the others down there, and I figured, since you’re not livin’ in the shadows anymore…as much, at least, that you might wanna…come along.” Dean’s enthusiasm tapered near the end of his question, suddenly sheepish. Castiel didn’t understand why, but he nodded.

“I’d love to, Dean. I want to meet your friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think? :)


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel glared. He didn’t understand, and he wasn’t used to that. He reflected that since landing on Earth, he’d been more confused than ever. This was no exception. The object itself was unremarkable: a small, multicoloured cube he’d found on a shelf in Sam’s room. He hadn’t meant to snoop—Dean said it was rude to enter someone else’s space without their knowledge or go-ahead, but Sam had left the door open and the mismatched colours had grabbed his attention and refused to let him go.

He didn’t understand why, but he’d felt as though he _had_ to fix it.

He could have done so with his Grace; it would have been easy to just tap it and watch the colours sort themselves out. But he’d decided, when he’d crashed in that forest and Dean had found him, that he’d wanted to live the closest to human he could. Humans didn’t have Grace.

So that’s why, at 4:30, Castiel was sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room, twisting the sections of the cube angrily.

The growl of the Impala didn’t draw him out of this trance; it was only when Dean opened the door that Castiel looked up.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Heya, Cas. Whatcha got there?”

“I don’t know, but it’s annoying.” Castiel heald the cube up, and Dean smirked.

“Ah, I see. It’s called a Rubik’s Cube. Did you get it outta Sammy’s room?” When Castiel nodded and got to his feet, offering the toy back to Dean, the human shook his head. “Keep it. If you solve it, tell me how. Now, c’mon, we gotta go. I don’t wanna be the last one there.”

“Why?” Castiel had recently become wary of asking this question, but this time he felt it reasoned. He slipped the cube into the pocket of the trench coat Dean had given him when they first met. He’d become fond of it, wearing it whenever he could. Now was one of those times.

“Last one there buys milkshakes for the group.” Dean grunted, leading him back to the car. Within minutes, they were off, Sam in the passenger seat, Castiel in the back, listening intently to the Zeppelin album blaring from the speakers.

The Roadhouse was an old building, a few minutes away from the school. It was run by Dean’s kind-of aunt, Ellen Harvelle, and her daughter Jo. It had the best burgers in town and was a regular hangout for the Winchesters and their friends. On any given day, some combination of the group would be there, crowded around a table or a booth, or sitting in a line on the tall stools along the bar (of course, Ellen wouldn’t give them alcohol, but after the years even she had given up shooing them away.)

When Sam, Dean, and Castiel got inside, Castiel was hit with the overwhelming smell of food and air freshener. The air was thick with atmosphere, and for a moment Cas was drowning in it, overtaken with the sheer volume of soul residue that had been left here over years. The whole place was buzzing, covered in the dull fog that was left over soul.

He heard them first: three of them, their laughter was loud and uninhibited, extensions of their souls, which were bright and distinctive enough as it was. Some were more damaged; one had gone through great loss, he could tell, and still it remained pure, happy.

Castiel couldn’t help but smile.

Dean grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the group, his own soul buzzing with something big and loud that Castiel couldn’t name, simply because he’d never felt it before. They were in a corner booth, two on the side with their backs to the window, one on the other. Backpacks and coats were shoved under the table, around their feet.

“Hey, guys! Are we the last here?”

A chorus of greetings met him, and the bright/damaged soul answered his question. “Nah, Benny’s not here yet. Looks like milkshakes are on him!” The table cheered.

Dean slid into the booth, pulling Castiel down next to him. “Sweet. Guys, this is Cas, he’s stayin’ with us, and he’s gonna be startin’ school soon…ish. Cas, this is Charlie, Ash, and Jo.” Dean indicated in turn to the two souls opposite them under the window, and the soul to his right.

The group greeted him as Sam slid next to Charlie and Ash.

“’Cas’, huh? Short for anything?” Charlie’s soul hummed happily under her speech.

“Castiel.”

“Fancy!” She giggled. “So what brings you to our humble little town, Your Lordship?” Her voice changed to something that Castiel thought meant she was teasing him, but he answered her in earnest. Well, as earnestly as he could with the false story Dean had come up with.

“I was made to leave my home, and Dean and I had been talking via letters for a while. In my panic, his was the first address that came to mind—I don’t have any family members that live close.” At least that part was true.

“Cas, man, I’m sorry, dude. That sucks _balls_.  Glad you’re OK, though.”

Castiel smiled at Ash, not completely understanding his choice of words, but appreciative of the sentiment nonetheless.

Before any of them can speak, another person rushes to the table, breathing heavily. The newcomer glanced around and cursed loudly. “Why am I the last one _again?!”_

The group laughed, and Dean introduced Cas to Benny, their milkshake benefactor, apparently. Benny nods at him in greeting and pulls up a chair around the other side of the table, the couch chairs having been taken up already.

The group quickly regale Benny with their orders, long memorised, and Dean hands Castiel a menu. The options are many—a list of _Chocolate: Dark, milk, white; Vanilla; Strawberry; Caramel; Syrup_ was only the start. Overwhelmed by options, Castiel looked up at the group. “What should I get?”

“Well, Cas, are you more of a sweet guy, or fruit guy?” Jo spoke up, ready to guide him through the menu that she’d helped write.

“I-I don’t know.” Castiel murmured, suddenly feeling out of place in the group that knew so well what they were doing.

“Uh, his parents were, like, super strict. They didn’t let him have stuff like this.” Dean was good at thinking on his feet, and Castiel was thankful, not for the first time, that he was the one he’d met in the forest that day.

“You’ve _never_ had a milkshake?! _Dude!”_ At first, Castiel thought Charlie had somehow been offended by his lack of experience, but her soul held more pity and shock than anger. “You gotta try the dark chocolate one, buddy, it’s _amazing_.”

“Nah, strawberry’s better.” Sam argued, and Dean stepped up to settle the fight.

“Listen, guys, while I agree that all the shakes are great, Cas has to start with the classic—Get a vanilla one, Cas.”

Castiel nodded, trusting Dean’s finality. _‘Start with’._ That implied Dean wanted to bring Castiel here more, and Castiel would do nothing to risk that. He resolved to try every milkshake on the menu before his year was up— _ten days down, three-hundred-and-fifty-five to go_.

“I guess I’ll have vanilla, then, please.” Castiel smiled, proud of himself for making a decision—even if it had been with Dean’s help.

Dean cheered and Benny pulled out his wallet, placing a small plastic card on the table. 

“What’s that?” Castiel eyed the card with doubt, leaning over to whisper to Dean.

“Uh, a credit card. You can pay for things with it.”

“But I saw you pay for the pizza the other day with green paper and little brown discs, you called that ‘money’.”

“Yeah, but you can pay with that, too. You keep all your money in a bank, and they give you this card so that you can pay without taking the notes and coins around everywhere. When you buy something, the bank takes the money from your amount and gives it to the right place.” Dean explained.

Castiel still looked confused, and opened his mouth, but Charlie interrupted, seemingly accidentally. “So, Dean, your birthday’s soon. And I know, we bring it up every year, and you say you don’t wanna do anything, but then we end up throwing you a party anyway. So, I’m gonna ask you once, and if you say ‘nothing’, we’ll throw the biggest, loudest, messiest party ever, and on all the invites and posters, and yes, there will be posters, will all have that photo I found of you when we were kids of you in Jo’s dress.”

“I don’t understand--What’s a birthday?” Castiel asked her. 

This was evidently a wrong question, because the table collectively stopped. “What do you mean, ‘what’s a birthday’?”

Dean spluttered, “Uh-He--It’s a homeschool thing. His parents didn’t believe in celebrating birthdays, and because they kinda controlled him, he’s never had one. Cas I just realised I didn’t show you where the toilets were, c’mon.” So saying, he tugged the angel up and shoved him towards the bathrooms.

“Dean, I don’t need to know where they are, angels don’t need to--”

Dean looked around the bathroom, opening doors to stalls to check they were alone. “You can’t ask questions like that in front of people, man. You’ll blow your cover.”

“But how am I to understand human culture if I cannot ask questions?”

Dean sighed, putting his hands on Castiel’s shoulders to calm him. “You can ask me any questions you think of when we get back home. For now, while you’re talking to other people, ask about the individual, not ‘all the human race’. Show interest in the person, rather than giving off the whole… ‘take me to your ruler’ vibe.”

“I don’t understand that reference, but I think I comprehend your point. I’m sorry.” Castiel sighed, deflating slightly. “I can’t seem to get this right, can I? Maybe I shouldn’t have come after all.”

“No! No, Cas, you’re doing great! It’s OK to mess up a little from time to time--that’s like 99% of what humans do, so, if you think about it, you’re actually doing quite well.” Dean grinned at Cas, who chuckled.

“Yes, I suppose. Thank you, Dean.”

“Now, let’s go back out there before they think we’ve both drowned in the crapper.”

Castiel chuckled and Dean led him out again, hand threaded in his own.

 

The rest of their night went well--very well. Jo was pulled away to work a shift because another worker had called in sick on short notice, but she sent them over free fries and pulled funny faces from across the room when she caught one of their gazes. 

After they ate, Castiel revealed he’d never seen (or heard of,) the Avengers, so Charlie insisted they all pile back to the Winchester’s basement and binge as much of the series as they could, starting with Iron Man. Dean found a stash of their mom’s beers, and by the end, they were all a little tipsy. 

Most of them had had alcohol before, even Sam, who was allowed a little on nights like this and New Years Eve. They made it through Iron Man, then the Hulk, through Ash voiced his near-constant dismissal of, then Iron Man 2, which they only watched because Castiel hadn’t before and Charlie insisted everyone should watch at least once, (“You can’t have the good without the bad, Benny, and I know you like Coulson.”) Then they watched Thor, in which Charlie swooned over the quirky and sarcastic character, Darcy. By the end of Thor, Sam was tired, so the brothers collected blankets and pillows from everywhere in the house and tugged mattresses from their rooms, creating a sofa-to-TV-cabinet floor if bed. Benny decided to depart, his house being the closest to Deans, and Ash went with him. Charlie called dibs on the sofa, and Sam opted for curling up on the armchair, which left Cas and Dean to share the floor mattresses. They put Captain America on, and by the end, Castiel was in love.

“I think I understand now; you watch these to...escape from your life? To see different walks and perspectives that normally you couldn’t experience. Although, they are  sometimes rather unrealistic.”

“That’s the point, Cas! Escapism! Fantasy!  _ Fun _ !” Charlie laughed. “Oh, Dean, is my toothbrush still the red one?”

“Yeah, it’s in the cupboard in there.”

Castiel watched as Charlie walked in the direction of the bathroom. It was evident that Charlie spent a lot of time here; she knew her way around and had her own toothbrush here. Dean had told him that Charlie was his friend, and was solely attracted to other girls, so Castiel could guess that they’d known each other for a while. When he asked, Dean confirmed:

“Since we were kids. We went to the same kindergarten and stuck together since then.” 

Castiel nodded. “It must be nice, having that.”

“You must have a friend like that, Cas. You told me you were like, a million years old.” Dean sat on the mattress in long red and yellow cotton pants and a deep red t-shirt with a picture of a lion on it. Sam was in his room, getting changed presumably, and Charlie was in the bathroom, so Castiel assumed he was safe to talk.

“I...I suppose I have other Angels I talk to more than others, ones I care for more, and who care for me, but we are strongly discouraged from forming anything more emotional than a professional, warrior-like bond. We are fighters. We have to trust each other, not like each other.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “That...That sounds lonely, Cas.”

Castiel agreed, but instead said, “we are accustomed to it. I’ve been doing it for millennia, and in a year, I must return. I only hope this year will not be in vain.”

Dean smiled at him reassuringly. “It’s OK, Cas. we’ll convince them together. The dynamic duo, Angel and human, saving the world.”

It was a joke that Castiel didn’t seem to find funny, and Dean found himself staring into the Angel’s eyes, while they stared into his soul, reading his emotions like a book. But his eyes. They were blue, impossibly blue, and every shade. Beautiful. 

They were interrupted by Sam, who was dressed in yellow and grey sleep pants, in the same pattern as Deans, but his grey shirt had a badger on it. “Uh, Dean, can I talk to you? In private?”

Dean snapped his gaze to his brother, clearing his throat and getting up. “Uh, sure, Sammy, let’s go upstairs.”

So, the Winchesters left the Angel alone in their basement.

“What did you wanna talk about, Sammy?” Dean asked once they were in Sam’s room.

Sam sighed, biting his lip and avoiding Dean’s eyes, searching for a way to phrase what he was about to say. “I--uh...Why...I mean, did you...Why didn’t you tell me Castiel wasn’t human?”

Deans brain seemed to stutter, and suddenly everything he’d ever learned about lying deserted him. “What do you mean?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Dean, I’m not an idiot, I heard you speaking with him just now. And it makes sense, you know?”

“Wh...What do you mean, ‘it makes sense’?”

“Well, I mean, mom deals with non-humans, right, and it’s not like Castiel is...normal. He’s a bit weird, not that that’s bad, but..” Sam trailed off.

“You think he’s  _ weird _ ?” Dean glared at his brother.

“Not in a bad way! He...obviously wants to learn about us, about humans, and that’s fine, but...is he dangerous?”

“You think I’d keep him around if he was dangerous? Listen, Sam, Castiel is safe to be around. He wants to learn about humanity. He wants to help us. You’ve spent time with him--I thought you liked him!”

“I do! I do, a-and I don’t think he’s unsafe, but...can you trust him?”

Dean sighed, and considered his brother. “He’d never hurt any of us. I’d trust him with so much that it scares me, because I don’t know  _ why _ . But I do. And I need you to trust me--And him, because I think he’s going to help us all.”

Sam met Dean’s eyes, and they had the kind of telepathic conversation that only people who’ve known each other forever can have. Then, Sam sighed. “OK. OK. I trust you, and if you trust him, I trust him. He’s my friend. I trust him.”

Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and nodded thankfully. “OK. Let’s go. I think I hear Charlie putting Avengers on, and I don’t wanna miss it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment!


	6. Chapter 6

They continued the routine for a few weeks, until Castiel started school. Dean drove them in, and showed Cas to his homeroom while he explained the structure of the day and Castiel’s timetable. When they got there, Dean smiled reassuringly.

“You ready, hotshot?” He waited for Castiel to smile, which Castiel had learned he was supposed to do for questions like this, even if he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it. Dean didn’t know that, so he pushed the door open and whispered, “Bye.”

Cas mimicked the word and stepped into homeroom.

Castiel was sure he was visibly nervous; there were more humans here than Castiel had ever been around, and they were all staring at him. He tugged his coat tighter around him and looked around for a place to sit, until his eyes landed on Jo, the girl from the diner who hadn’t come home with them that night to watch superhero films. She waved at him and he made a beeline for the seat next to her, currently holding her bag. She moved it for him to sit. 

“Mornin’ Cas! How are ya?” 

“Hello, Jo. I’m…” Dean had said that when people ask this question, they don’t really want to know how you are, and you were supposed to say ‘OK’. Instead, Castiel said, “nervous.”

She laughed. “That’s OK, Cas! You’re gonna be fine.”

 

And he was, mainly. His first lesson of the day was art, which he shared with Charlie. He was first to admit that he wasn’t very good, but he enjoyed watching the people who were passionate about creating work while whispering and giggling amongst each other. He and Charlie talked about who their favourite superheroes were. Charlie said Batman, but Castiel wasn’t sure who that was (although he didn’t tell her,) and he elected for Captain America: he liked how kind he was. They must have spoken too loud, because Castiel saw some people in the room turn briefly to look at him. He stuck his head down and continued to attempt to draw himself, as per the brief from their teacher, who was at her desk at the front of the room squinting at the computer screen.

 

His next lesson was maths, and that confused him even more; when did they add letters to numbers? But Ash seemed to rush through the work like a fish through water, then he turned around to Castiel and talked him through it. By the end of the hour, Castiel was sure his head was hurting. 

Then, it was English, and both Benny and Charlie were there for that. They were reading a play, and the teacher picked people to play parts. Charlie, whose job it was to play a character that someone called the ‘comic relief’, stood on her chair and pretended to swoon as the other characters moved about. She nearly fell over, which made Castiel laugh once he was certain she was OK. 

The lesson before their lunch hour was history. Dean waved him over to sit at the back together. It turned out that their usual teacher was ill, or at least otherwise occupied, but had left them textbooks to read and take notes from.

“This is wrong, too,” Castiel pointed to another paragraph in the book they were sharing. 

“What do you mean, ‘wrong’?” Dean hissed, grinning widely. He seemed to be enjoying this; Castiel, having lived through the entire history of the Earth, knew far more about its history than he did it’s modern customs.

“I mean, That’s not what happened. He didn’t do that.”

“You’re lying.” Dean made a note on his paper briefly, but kept up the conversation.

“Why would I lie?” 

“To impress me. You desperately want me to think you’re clever.”

Castiel smiled and met Dean’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have to lie to you for you to think that.”

Dean stayed silent for a moment, still staring into Castiel’s eyes. Then he cleared his throat and looked away. Castiel blinked and looked back at the book. They joked with each other until the lunch bell rang, and then they walked to the food hall together. 

They ate as a group, and Castiel found it a lot easier to blend in than he had done before. He felt proud; that meant he was learning.

  
  


After school had finished, Dean told Castiel that he had football training, so Cas would have to either walk back or wait. Castiel elected to wait and watch, and try to pick up the rules of the game.

He couldn’t.

But he had fun watching anyway, and an hour later when Dean’s teammates made their way out of the changing rooms, he was excited to ask Dean more about the game.

But Dean wasn’t with them. 

“Hey, you’re that new guy, right? I saw you hangin’ around with those weirdos at lunch. Seems you fit in quite well.” 

Castiel frowned at the boy. “Those ‘weirdos’ are my friends, and I don’t like your tone.” 

“Aaw, whatcha gonna do? Glare at me?” The boy, Gordon, Castiel had heard Jo talking about him, pouted. “I’m so scared!” 

Castiel’s frown deepened. That made him laugh more. Gordon approached and Castiel felt like he wanted him to step backwards, but as a warrior, Castiel just planted his feet. “I want you to take what you said about my friends back.”

“Make me, loser.” Gordon shoved Castiel back, and the Angel overbalanced, not for the first time caught off guard by the weakness of his vessel. 

“I’m not asking, Gordon. Don’t insult my friends.” Castiel felt himself get angrier: at Gordon, at himself, at his vessel. At Dean for being late.

“Yeah, right, right, ‘cause you’re totally gonna make me regret it. Listen, new kid, I’ll let you off this time because you don’t know how this works, but  _ I  _ make the rules here, OK?” Gordon punctuated his little speech by shoving Castiel backwards. Castiel, eager not to blow his cover, allowed himself to be pushed, but when it looked like Gordon was done, Castiel looked down at his feet, cleared his throat, and let his grace show through his vessel’s eyes, meeting Gordon’s.

“No, you listen to me, Gordon. I’m not going to hurt you, because you are not a risk to me. But be clear: I do  _ not _ abide such insolence towards the people who have taught me so much since I got here. They are kind, thoughtful, and a lot more interesting than you, Gordon. Understand?”

Gordon’s eyes were wide. “Y...You  _ freak _ ! You fuckin’  _ freak _ !” He shoved Castiel, who overbalanced and fell back. Gordon readied himself to kick, but was interrupted.

“ _ Hey _ !  _ Leave him alone _ !” Dean. Castiel looked up and met Dean’s eyes. Gordon, evidently uneager to fight a teammate, huffed and turned away. Dean picked up his pace to catch up with the boy, but Castiel stopped him. 

“Dean, he’s not worth it. I’m OK. Let’s go home.” Castiel began walking to the car, forcing Dean to catch up with him.

Dean pulled Castiel up and brushed him off. “It’s not  _ nothing _ , Cas. You got beat up.”

Castiel huffed a laugh. “I wouldn’t call it ‘beat up’. I scared him, and he…’freaked out’ and reacted.” 

“Still, he shouldn’t have made you need to scare him in the first place!” 

“It’s nothing Dean--unlock the car please-- it won’t happen again.” 

Dean looked at him, sighed, and unlocked the car. Castiel slid into the passenger side while Dean took the wheel, driving out of the lot. 

They drove in silence, until Castiel smiled at him and whispered, “Thank you for coming to my rescue, anyway, Dean. That was very good of you.”

“Yeah, like you needed it.” Dean scoffed.

“I appreciated it.” Then he leaned over and brushed his lips lightly against Dean’s cheek. 

The car swerved, then corrected. Dean looked over at him. “Wh...What was that for?”

Castiel frowned, shaken by the cars sudden movement. “Uh...Was it not appropriate? I thought that was a custom to show affection. Did I get it wrong?”

“Uh--” Dean cleared his throat, “Uh, no, Cas, that’s right, but usually...well, guys don’t really...do that. Unless they’re, uh... _ romantically involved _ .”

“That seems strange; why can’t they?” As Dean flailed for an answer, Castiel continued, “Well, the point is moot, I suppose, as I am not a guy. I am simply in the vessel of one.”

Dean nodded, still a bit thrown-off. “Yeah, I guess, Cas. I...It was cute. I guess.” He shrugged. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cas smile. 

But he was suddenly too focussed on the car in the driveway of their house.

John Winchester was home. 


	7. Chapter 7

John Winchester often went away for days on end while Mary was on hunts. He worked as an engineer, and as such would travel from site to site to check up and repair equipment at mechanic shops or dealerships. 

And it wasn’t that Dean didn’t enjoy spending time with his father, it was just...they were different. John was very much the traditional conservative patriarch, or so Sam or Charlie would say, and he played the part well. Dean didn’t talk to his dad about anything important: only sports, school, and school sports. It was riveting conversation. But if Dean tried to say anything that John couldn’t relate to or understand, John would just shut it down, change the topic, or leave.

Sam was worse. Sam had trouble finding conversation topics with John, and when he did, one of them would say the wrong thing, and eventually it ended in shouting and door-slamming. 

John didn’t talk about their mother’s job. It wasn’t that he wasn’t proud of her, or he didn’t care, he just couldn’t deal with acknowledging the strange and supernatural creatures she’d tell the boys about, so he didn’t. It was his way to simply avoid anything he wanted to.

It was difficult. Dean wished they could talk more, get along more, but it wasn’t going to happen as long as John couldn’t listen to his sons. 

 

So it was understandable that Dean was nervous at the thought of introducing his father to the boy who’d been staying in his home for the past few months. 

_ Months _ . It hadn’t felt like months since Dean found Cas naked and with wings in the middle of the forest and taken him home. The time had gone quick; they were almost half-way through Castiel’s allotted time here. 

 

Dean opened the front door slowly, scanning the room. He saw John sitting in front of the TV, beer in hand and Sam to his left, head ducked over a book. Dean took Castiel’s hand and led him through the door, putting a finger to his own lips to signify silence. Castiel frowned and tiled his head, a gesture that Dean had come to equate with the Angel’s confusion. Dean rolled his eyes and kept creeping.

“Hey, Dean! How was football?” John spoke, not taking his eyes away from the TV. 

Dean cleared his throat. “Uh, it was good, dad. Dad, I want you to meet Cas, he’s been staying with us.”

That caught John’s attention, and he looked around to see the boys. “Staying here? For how long?”

“Uh,” Dean scratched the back of his neck self-consciously, “few months?” It wasn’t a question, but it sounded like one. 

“Why? You just let a stranger into our hoe? With everything your mother does, you just trust a stranger?”

“Listen, dad, Cas is cool, he just needed a place to--”

“No, Dean, you can’t just--what if one of you had gotten hurt?”

“Hurt? Dad, he just needed a place to stay. His family kicked him out, and he can’t get his own place ‘til next year. He’s safe, he’s OK.”

John looked at Castiel his eyes narrow in suspicion. He looked over Castiel’s ash-coloured hair, his bright blue eyes, the trench coat Dean had given him that he still insists on wearing. “You got kicked out?” 

Castiel nodded and spoke quietly, as if the situation was one he was still sensitive about. Dean had to admire how much his acting--lying had improved. He was becoming very human.

“Yes, sir,” bingo, Dean had told Cas about John’s military past, and as a soldier himself, Castiel knew what to say, “My family forced me to leave home, and this place...Well, Dean was the first person I thought of, the first address I remembered. I didn’t have many friends, but Dean and I had a correspondence. Pen-pals, I think you’d call it. ” 

“Why’d you get kicked out?”

Castiel hesitated, glancing at Dean. “I, uh...I ‘ _ came out _ ’. They didn’t approve.”

Dean’s throat was dry. He didn’t know how John would react to that. He knew Charlie was gay, but the didn’t talk about it, so Dean had no idea what he could think. Rural Kansas wasn’t the most queer-friendly place, although it was getting better.

John didn’t speak for a moment, then grunted. “‘M sorry that happened, boy. Dean, you did the right thing.” He smiled briefly, then turned back to the TV. “I assume he’s been staying in the basement?”

“Uh, yeah.” 

John just hummed, already absorbed in the programme onscreen. 

Dean met Castiel’s eyes then shrugged. 

  
  
  


That evening, when they’d all sat around the big table to eat their evening meal, Dean bit his lip and stayed strangely silent, until John spoke up.

“Dean, are you alright?”

Under the table, Dean found Castiel’s hand. Or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, having his friend there helped. “Dad, I need to tell you something important. I’ve been thinking for a long time about this, so I don’t want you to think it’s a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I’m not gonna change, but...Dad, I’m bisexual.” 

There was silence for a few seconds while Dean stared at the fork in his hand like it held all the answers to the universe, then John spoke softly, “I don’t...that’s the one where you like girls and boys, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Pretty much.” Dean murmured.

John nodded slowly. “OK. OK, son. Thank you for telling me.”

And that was all that was said about that, because then he proceeded to chat with Sam about his school work, a conversation that Sam obviously wasn’t expecting, but was eager to be a part of. 

Dean glanced up at his dad, and felt himself smile. His eyes slid over to meet Castiel’s, and the hand in his own squeezed slightly. The Angel smiled back. They continued to eat, until Sam told a joke that made Castiel snort with laughter. That sound startled a laugh out of Dean, because it was rare to hear Castiel react so much to anything, and the three laughed at each other while John shook his head, but he was smiling too. 

After dinner, while the boys washed up, dried up, and put away, Castiel spoke to both of them. “Thank you, both of you.”

“For what, Cas?” Sam asked before putting a plate back in it’s cupboard.

“For teaching me how to be human.”

  
  
  


So, the week continued. Gordon didn’t bother Castiel, or indeed any of them, and John didn’t suspect Castiel’s inhuman origins for a second. Dean and Cas spent as much time as they could together, communicating mainly in what their friends called ‘unsubtle flirts’. Something Castiel didn’t understand, so didn’t pay much mind to. The week continued, as weeks tend to do, until friday night.

Cas didn’t like to be woken up. Dean had learned this about a month ago, when he woke Castiel up and got punched. Castiel apologised profusely and used his Angel-magic to heal Dean’s rapidly darkening bruise, but it was a lesson Dean didn’t need repeating.

So, why was he waking the Angel up at 3AM in the morning?

“ _ Cas! Cas, wake up _ !” He hissed, shaking the Angel lightly. Castiel, as predicted, swung his fist, but this time Dean expected it and ducked. “Cas, it’s me! Wake up!”

Castiel groaned and opened his eyes to glare at Dean. “That sounds like a bad idea.”

“Cas, get up. Mum’s coming home tomorrow, and we have a tradition that I want you to see.” He pulled Castiel up, and the Angel groaned again, in protest, but got up, rubbing his eyes.

Dean paused. “I wonder if the guy you’re possessing is a morning person.”

Castiel shrugged. “I don’t know; I didn’t stop to ask. What’re we going to do?”

Dean grinned. “We’re gonna dance.”

 

Dean explained that that first time Sam was old enough to miss Mary when she went on hunts, he couldn’t sleep, so John put on his favourite movie and some music and they danced and threw popcorn at each other and laughed until Mary came home. As they got older, it became tradition--or habit. The movie changed every time, but the music stayed the same: a mixtape that had been kicking around for years before Sam was born.

And that’s what they did, the four of them. At first Castiel didn’t know what to do, but Dean took his hands and moved to the heavy drum beat of the song. None of them danced well, but it didn’t matter, because they knew it and had fun anyway. Castiel found that he didn’t like salted popcorn, but couldn’t stop eating the sweet kind. 

Castiel found himself perpetually grinning, an expression mirrored in all three of the Winchesters’ faces. At 3:48AM, almost three hours after they’d begun the film and two hours since they got bored of it and begin to mess around the house, dancing, cheering, and throwing pillows and popcorn at each other, Dean and Cas sat, exhausted, on Dean’s bed.

They were both breathing heavily, still giggling like children, when Dean looked over at him. Suddenly, Dean stopped, frowned, and reached out, brushing his thumb across Castiel’s cheek. When he brought it away, it was wet.

“Cas, you’re crying.”

Castiel wiped his face with his hands, tilting his head in confusion. “Yes. I am.”

“Well...A-Are you OK?”

Castiel nodded, ghost of his smile still lingering. “I...I think I’m happy. Or...maybe I’m sad. I can’t tell. Is that...normal?”

Dean sat up more, and turned fully to him, crossing his legs. “Tell me why.”

The Angel thought for a moment. “I...I’ve never danced before. There’s so  _ much  _ down here, Dean. So much stuff that seems so normal to you but...alien to me. I never had a childhood, Angels don’t, we simply come into being and are trained to fight. That’s it, that’s all we do: kill each other and demons in Heaven, and occasionally, when we run out of reasons to fight, we ensure that the safety and wellbeing of the souls up there continues. My siblings sneer at humans; they believe that you are impure, unsanitary. If they only knew; there’s so much that you are, so much that you do, it’s...beautiful. You’re beautiful. And...now that I’ve been here, I don’t know...I don’t think I want to go back.”

“Then don’t.” Dean said, a bit too quickly. “Stay here, with me--with us. I don’t...I don’t want to miss you, Cas. You’re my best friend, and i’ve known you like, five months. I don’t want to never see you again.”

Castiel huffed. “You’ve forgotten why I’m here in the first place: If I don’t go back, Heaven will use Earth as their new battleground; their playground to wreck and slaughter. I have to go back, but,” Castiel smiled softly and reached forward, cupping Dean’s face in his hands, “we still have time.” the ‘to be together’ went unspoken, but it hung over them like a cloud.

Dean pulled away. “What’s the point, Cas? What’s the point of being...of having  _ this _ if you’re just gonna go back and never do any of it again?” 

Castiel waited until Dean looked back at him and said, with his soft, sad smile still in place, “The point, of course, is that I’ll never get to have it-or do this-ever again.”

Then, he shuffled forwards, and kissed Dean softly. When Dean began to kiss beck, he pulled away. “I think I enjoy being human.”

That night, they both slept in Dean’s bed, curled around each other, cradling each other in their arms.


	8. Chapter 8

When Dean woke up, he was met with a head of black hair.He couldn’t stop the slow smile from appearing on his face, so he didn’t try. He had to school his expression, however, when bright blue eyes met his green ones. 

“Mornin’ Sunshine.” Dean murmured.

“Good morning, Dean.” Castiel blinked sleepily, then perked up, brow furrowing slightly. “There’s someone here who wasn’t here before.” 

Dean gasped and his eyes lit up. “Mom!” He threw the duvet away, and pulled Castiel up. The Angel made an undignified grunting noise, unprepared for the sudden movement, but allowed himself to be led into the main room, where a blonde woman sat over the table, writing in an old leather book.

“Mom!” Dean greeted her loudly, his grin splitting his face. 

“Dean!” She chuckled and got up, accepting the hug when he offered it. “Aw, I missed you!”

“How was the hunt?” He pulled away, still smiling.

“It was nothing, just some werewolves. It shouldn’t have taken so long, but I got sidetracked; Bobby thought there was another case, but it was a bust. Now, this must be Castiel.” Mary held her hand out to Castiel, who took it like he’d been taught and shook it.

“It’s good to meet you, Mrs Winchester. Sam and Dean speak very highly of you.”

Mary considered him, eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s good to meet you too, Castiel. John tells me you’ve been sleeping in our basement.”

“Yes, Dean has allowed me to stay while I find a more permanent situation. I apologise for the intrusion, but--”

“Oh, no, you’re not intruding, it’s just...well, you didn’t come up from the basement.”

Dean blushed. “Uh--So, mom, have you eaten? Cas makes  _ mean  _ coffee. We can make breakfast.”

Mary agreed, and went back to writing in her book. When Castiel asked about it, Dean shrugged. “She writes down everything that happens on hunts so that she has all the info she might need.”

Castiel nodded in acknowledgement. “I think she suspects me of being inhuman.” 

“What? She just met you.” Dean faced the Angel, brow furrowed. 

“Maybe so, but she’s good at what she does, and to an experienced hunter, there are signs of possession that a vessel displays.”

“Like what? Is your vessel OK?” Dean stepped closer, cradling Castiel’s chin and pushing it lightly to spot any physical signs of damage. Castiel smiled and pushed him away.

“Not physical signs. But if your mother can see something that most humans cannot, then she might be able to guess what I am.”

“What do you mean, Cas?” 

“I mean that there are sigils--symbols, that gift the user...a sight. Your mother has an anti-possession mark, and some protection markings. One of them gifts the bearer an insight--they can see a glance of a Demon or an Angel’s trueform. She might mistake it for a soul, since the gift allows her to see those, too. But--”

“Woah, woah Cas, slow down. You’re telling me mom can see  _ souls _ ?”

“Yes, Dean, but that’s not all: the gift is a product of something supernatural, and a gift like that comes at a price. I wonder what that price could be.”

Dean shook his head. “Cas, I don’t...so--Mom can see souls, and your trueform, because of something supernatural? Why wouldn’t she have said anything?”

Castiel shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t make a habit of reading minds. I just saw her soul.”

Dean exhaled hugely. “So...What do we do?”

“We make breakfast. I’m not sure if there is anything to do but dissuade her suspicions.”

  
  


The more that Dean thought about it, the more it made sense. His mother had always been able to tell exactly what someone was feeling just with a look. She’d always known exactly what to say. Could it be because she had been seeing souls? 

And, Dean thought, could it be that all those times she’d been ambushed by Demons, she’d known what they were all along?

He kept this in mind over the next month or so, and watched as his mother continued to know what anyone was feeling, to know what to say to them to drive them a certain way, and to be suspicious of Castiel, despite him doing his best to appear as nothing more than human. 

They went to school in Dean’s car, went to his lessons, ate with their friends, waited for Dean and Sam after school, had dinner with all four of the Winchesters, then fell asleep in Dean’s bed.

That was a new development. Dean and Castiel had moved into something of a labelless relationship: they held hands, kissed, and did general couple-y stuff, but forbade themselves from becoming any more emotionally invested than they already were. Dean had tried to stop it before it started; he’d avoided Castiel for three days before the Angel had all but sobbed for Dean to be his friend again. He couldn’t quit. 

He’d had relationships before: there was Rhonda, Cassie, Lisa, to name a few. But Dean had never felt this kind of thing for anyone. Even when he wasn’t with Cas, he felt like he could feel him, out there, getting on with his feux-human life. Sometimes, he felt like he knew exactly what Cas was feeling, what he was thinking, even before the Angel told him.

It was scary. Dean didn’t know what it meant; he just knew that if he allowed himself to get any closer to Castiel, he’d never be able to step away.  

 

Two months. Two months passed, and Mary’s suspicions were all but depleted. Castiel had almost completely adjusted to human life. He and his friends, and he felt as though he could call them  _ his _ friends, now, kept going to the Roadhouse. He tried a different milkshake flavour each week, (so far chocolate orange was his favorite,) and watched new films from new genres, (Castiel couldn’t choose a favourite.)

He was seven months into his year when he felt it.

It was so sudden, so unexpected, that he stood up like a bolt in the middle of his history class. Dean, of course, shared the class and looked up at him, frowning.

“Cas? Cas, what’s--”

“I have to go.” Castiel’s eyes were glued on the window. He strode towards and then out the door, ignoring the protests of the teacher and the giggles of the class.

“I-I’ll go get him.” Dean excused himself, and the teacher got ignored again. “Cas!  _ Castiel!”  _ Dean ran, chasing the Angel out into the parking lot and finally seeing what Castiel saw.

A man, short-ish with light brown hair a little shorter than Sam’s, leant against a tiny grey Volvo. He wore a bright Hawaiian shirt and beige cargo pants, and within his eyes was all the mischief in the universe.

“Cassie!” The man grinned, but it looked wrong. Off.

“Gabriel. Why are you here? We agreed, I get a year!” 

Gabriel’s smile dropped. “Castiel, you’re needed in Heaven, urgently.”

“What would you know of Heaven? You left!” Castiel glared at the man, evidently another Angel. Dean looked between the two of them, at a loss. 

“Yeah, an’ now I’m back. Because this is important, and they need us. Both of us.” He was speaking quickly now, like he’d expected Castiel to say yes as soon as he’d appeared.

“Why?” Castiel stepped away from the man.

“Raphael has initiated a civil war. Y’know, that thing you’re down here to convince them to stop doing? That plan was never gonna work, Cassie. The Angels got tired of waiting.” 

“But I don’t--”

“Cassie, we need you to fight on our side. To  _ lead _ our side. Michael refuses to fight unless you’re his general. We need you.”

“No. He can fight without me, you all can. You don’t--”

“I thought this might happen. You never were a gifted negotiator, Gabriel.” The voice startled Dean, and he spun to face a dark-haired man in a suit, taller than Gabriel. “Castiel, if you don’t come with us and fight in this war,  _ now _ , I will smite your little mortal friend where he stands.” 

Castiel turned, his eyes wide. “Michael.  _ Don’t touch him! _ ” 

“I will kill him, Castiel, and then where will you be? Stuck here, with no way home because you  _ know  _ we won’t let you back in if you don’t come back now.”

“Cas, don’t listen--” Dean began, but Michael shoved him into the gravel. 

“Silence, ape! This does not concern you!”

Dean twisted and scrambled up and towards Castiel. “If it concerns Cas then it concerns me! Castiel don’t go. They can fight without you! I--I need you!”

Castiel stared sadly into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Dean, Raphael will decimate anything in his path. I need to be there. I promise, I’ll come back.”

“Castiel, we have to go,  _ now _ .”

Dean clutched onto Castiel’s coat--that _goddamned_ _coat_ \-- and planted his lips against Castiel’s. He wove the fingers of one hand through the hair at the back of the Angel’s head, and felt Castiel all but dissolve into the kiss. Then, all too soon, Castiel pulled away. 

“I’m sorry Dean. Tell the others a good lie for me.” He turned to the other Angels, who had converged in front of the Volvo. “OK. I’m ready.”

“Cas, wia--”

Castiel turned back and fished in his coat pocket. Then, he took Dean’s hand in his own and put the object he’d been looking for in Dean’s palm. “I think this belongs to you.”

The object, whatever it was, was sharp, and cold, and of little weight. Dean didn’t even look at it until Castiel had backed up, between the other two Angels. “Look at it, Dean. Give me a smile to fight for.” 

Dean searched Castiel’s eyes , though for what he was unsure, and looked down in his hand. 

A small-ish cube, three-by-three, with multi-coloured sides. The Rubik’s cube, still unsolved but closer to a solution. Castiel had attempted to solve it, several times, and still wasn’t closer to solving it. Trying the same thing, over and over again, expecting,  _ hoping _ for a solution to his problem.  _ That  _ was  _ very _ human. It was so simple, so random, that Dean laughed, only now aware that he was crying. He looked back at Cas, who smiled softly. “That’s good. I’ll see you soon, Dean.”

“Cas, don’t go--”

But it was too late. In a flash of bright light blue, the Angels were gone. 

And Dean was left alone.


	9. Chapter 9

After Castiel left, Dean didn’t return to class. He drove. He drove to the only place he could think of: the forest on the outskirts of town. Then he sat in the crater that Cas had formed, seven months ago. Grass had begun to grow in the soil, but the dip was still there. He lay there, for hours, on his back, until he ran out of things to feel. Then he stayed there a little longer. 

When it got dark, he got back in his car and drove home. 

Mary had left; a hunt somewhere.  John yelled about worrying them, leaving Sam, before he slammed the door behind him. Dean just sat there. 

“Dean? Are you OK?” Sam whispered needlessly: they were the only one;s there, after all.

“Castiel left. His siblings--the other Angels--showed up and forced him to go back to Heaven to fight a war he doesn’t want to fight in. I’m probably never gonna see him again.”

Sam sighed sadly. “Oh, Dean. Why didn’t you say?”

“‘M sayin’ now.” 

“So, what, that’s it? He doesn’t even say goodbye?” Sam was angry, Dean could tell. Sam’s anger was quiet, controlled. This was that, now.

“He gave me this,” Dean handed Sam the Rubik’s cube, “and told me to tell our friends a lie. I don’t know if I want to.”

“Well, we can’t tell them the truth.” 

Dean just hummed, and got up, making his way to his room. “I’m tired. See you tomorrow.” The door slammed. 

Sam was left alone. 

The next day, Dean didn’t utter a word to Sam. His movements were distracted, except for when they were harsh and angry. Sam wished their parents were here to help him say the right thing to cheer Dean up. Mary was always good at that. 

The day after, Dean didn’t eat anything, aside from a bowl of cereal at dinner time when Sam made him.

The next few days went much the same. Sam ate alone, Dean hardly ate at all. Dean drove Sam to school and stayed because it was easier than driving back. He didn’t bother with class, and he missed the friday night Roadhouse meeting. Then, he stopped eating with them at lunch. Sam barely saw him.

He started walking to school, because Dean wasn’t up by the time they usually left. He never saw Dean at school, but he knew he was there, because he asked. He walked home alone, and only saw Dean when he came in. Dean didn’t acknowledge him, instead going straight upstairs, where he’d stay until Sam went to bed. For weeks, nothing improved. 

Until one day, Sam snapped. 

Dean came in from wherever he’d been, and Sam stepped in front of him, blocking his path upstairs.

“Move, Sam.”

“No, Dean, we need to talk about this.”

“ _ Move, Sam _ .” Dean’s voice was quiet, dangerous. Sam’s resolve was resolute.

“ _ No, Dean _ . We need to  _ talk _ .”

“I don’t need to talk about  _ shit _ !” Dean’s voice was suddenly louder, and he pushed Sam forcefully out the way, so much so that Sam almost tripped down the stairs. For a second, the only sound was Dean;s heavy footfall as he stomped into his room. The door slammed so hard Sam was worried that something would break. He let himself catch his breath, and then ran after his brother.

He knocked, then when no reply came, called, “Dean, open the door.”

“Stay out of it, Sammy.”

“Dean, let me in, I just wanna talk. We all miss Cas, but you doing any of this isn’t helping! Just...let me in, _ please _ ...”

After a few seconds of silence on both ends, the door opened. Sam pushed inside quickly, in case Dean changed his mind, as Dean climbed back on his bed, back leaning against the wall. Sam joined him, so they were both facing the Metallica poster Dean had tacked up on the wall.

For a moment, nobody spoke. Then, they both did:

“Dean, why--”

“Sam, I--”

They looked at each other and chuckled, startled by the clash. “You go first.” Sam offered softly.

Dean looked back at the wall and sighed heavily. “I think I ‘im love him, Sam. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten involved, ‘cause I knew he was gonna leave, but...I thought we’d have more time. A-and I tried to ignore it, but there’s just... _ something _ there that I can’t...can’t turn off. Like...I was  _ supposed  _ to find him when I did. I was  _ supposed _ to love him.”

Sam nodded silently, trying to absorb everything his brother had just said. It wasn’t like Dean to have big emotional outbursts, but since Cas, Dean had had to learn how to explain things he would normally bottle up. Cas had changed a lot of things.

So, if fear of shutting him up, Sam pretended to get what Dean was saying, even though he didn’t really understand. “I just don’t think the way you’re coping with him leaving is healthy, Dean.”

Dean snorted, “really? Never woulda guessed.”

“We all miss him, Dean. I get that you loved him, an’ all, but that doesn’t mean you can’t miss him with all of us. You don’t have to be alone all the time.”

“It just doesn’t feel right, hangin’ ‘round with everyone without him. Which is  _ so _ stupid, because he wasn’t even here very long, and we had years together before he got here.”

“No, I understand. I get that, too. I keep looking around for either of you, and neither of you are there. It’s like...It’s felt like when he left, he took you with him. I miss both of you.”  

Dean pulled Sam closer and wrapped an arm around his neck, holding him there, and ruffled his hair roughly. 

Sam squawked for Dean to stop, but they were both laughing too much to actually do anything about it. Sam shoved Dean away, and Dean let him, and their laughter trailed off.

After a moment of silence, Dean sighed. “Don’t you have work to do or something, nerd?”

Sam chuckled. “No, I did it at lunch.”

“Wow, you really are a nerd, huh?” 

Sam hit him with a pillow. 

 

And after that, things got a little better. Dean still missed Castiel, Sam knew, but he began to reintegrate himself into his old life, with his friends, focussing on school. He even picked up a few more hours at Bobby’s Auto Shop now that it was closer to graduation and Dean didn’t have to care for an Angel 24/7. 

Things looked better, until Mary came home.

“Hey, Mom. How was the hunt?” Dean asked, as he always did. 

Mary stayed silent for a second. “I got interrupted.”

“Demons, right? What happened?” Sam fished.

“Angels. I didn’t even know Angels existed, I thought they were a myth. They... _ took _ the demons, they said--they said they needed them for a war.”

“You saw Angels?” Dean paused. That meant she could know about Cas.

“They called themselves Angels; I’m inclined to believe them. I need to talk to you about something. I saw what they were I saw their--well, their powers. And I had to get back. Boys, Castiel is--”

“We know, mom.”

“What?”

“We knew Cas was an Angel, and I know about the soul-seeing thing, ma.”

Mary’s eyes were wide, and Sam looked between Dean and their mother, lost. “What?”

“...You’ve seen Angels, so you know what their trueforms look like, so you know about Castiel. That’s what you wanted to talk about, right? Well, it doesn’t matter.”

Mary searched his gaze briefly, drew herself up to her full height, and sighed. “Yes. I’m assuming he told you about the Sight,” when Dean nodded, she continued, “I’m disappointed in you, Dean. You knew he was dangerous, and you let him in anyway. Did you know the entire time? What if he hurt you? Or Sam?”

“He wouldn’t.” Dean’s voice took an edge. Mary didn’t notice.

“You couldn’t  _ know _ , Dean! Where is he, anyway? He’d better not have--”

“He’s gone, Ma.”

“Their recruiting demons for, that means we can’t trust them. If not demons, who are they fighting against?”

“Mom, if you’d listen--” Dean’s voice was quiet, and Mary continued speaking over it.

“I wonder how easy would it be to ward against them? I don’t think--”

“ _ Mom!”  _ Sam all but shouted. “Castiel is gone, but he was  _ good _ . He came here to convince the Angels to leave the Earth out of their civil war. He was betrayed, and had to go. But mom, the fact that Cas is an Angel isn’t important. It’s the fact that he’s  _ gone _ , and Dean misses him more than any of us.”

Mary stared at her youngest son, then looked at her oldest properly for the first time since she’d arrived. Dean recognised the look, because it was the same look Castiel had when he was looking at a soul. “Dean, honey, I don’t understand.”

“I loved him, Ma. I loved him, and now he’s gone, and I don’t  _ care _ that I lied to you because it was worth it. And maybe Cas could’ve hurt us, he hurt me when he left, for sure, but it doesn’t matter, because we were happy, because Castiel  _ knew _ we couldn’t be now!”

The others stood, stunned, so Dean pushed past them, towards his room. They stayed in silence even after the door slammed.

“Mom, did the Angels mention a name?”

“Uh--Raphael. Why?”

“Dean is waiting for Castiel to come back, after a war that’s starting to kick off, and now one side is recruiting demons on Earth, which means the other side don’t know. Which means Castiel has a disadvantage, unless we tell them.”

“How?”

“I...don’t know.”

“Oh, Sam.” Mary sighed. When Sam looked at her, she continued, “when did our lives become so complicated?”

Sam smiled. “For you? Sometime around when you started hunting monsters. For us? High school.” 

“You know, before all this, when you were both babies, I used to tell you Angels were watching over you. Now I kind of wish I’d said something else.”

“...Dean doesn’t.” 

 

It was two weeks of rocky silences, especially when John came back on Wednesday. It was Sunday when Sam had the idea. 

“Yeah, well, y’know, I’m just praying that this means there won’t be many demon attacks for a while.” Their mother was talking to Bobby on the phone while Sam finished his work at the kitchen table. He perked up, something in his brain falling into place. “Oh, it should be fine. I put some warding up for Angels, so the boys are safe...Yeah, Dean pretty torn up...Yeah, yeah. OK, Bobby, Sam’s trying to talk to me, I’d better go. See ya.” She put the phone down and looked at Sam, who’d been trying to get her attention.

“Stop with the puppy-eyes, kid, what do you want?” She smiled, bemused, and let him talk.

“OK, so, Cas is an Angel, right?” Sam nodded in answer to his own question, and Mary copied him. “A-and when someone wants to contact an Angel, what do they do?” He grinned, waiting for her to answer. When she shrugged, he sighed. “ _ Pray _ ! We can pray to Cas!”

“And say what, Sam?”

Sam sighed. “Cas doesn’t know that Raphael--the angel he’s fighting-- has recruited demons. So, we pray to him, warn him, maybe he can stop this war before it properly starts!”

Mary smiled, “Sam, that...That might work.”

 

For the next few days, the Winchesters prayed. They called out to Castiel from as deep within their souls as they could. Then, on Friday, when the group was at the Roadhouse, Sma went even though Dean didn’t

“Guys, I need to tell you something about Castiel.”  Sam’s voice was serious, enough to catch and hold the attention of the other teenagers. “I guess...I should start with this: My mom fights monsters. Real life, for-sure, werewolf-vampire-demon  _ monsters _ . Charlie knows this already, and I’m sure the rest of you have questions, but they’ll have to wait: we need to contact Castiel.”

“Woah, woah, Sam, why...Why are you telling them about your mom if all we have to do is contact Cas?”

“Cas is and Angel. A real-life, warrior-of-God, souls-in-Heaven  _ Angel _ , and he’s trying to end a war. The other side is playing dirty, and Cas doesn’t know, and  _ we need to tell him _ .” 

“How?” Ash spoke up. The table looked at him, and he shrugged. “What? The kid’s smart, I’m goin’ with this ‘til it’s over.”

“I think we need to pray to him.”

“‘You think’?” Jo repeated.

“Yeah, I’m not sure. It’s not like there’s been a lot of Angels down here.”

 

They agreed, for some reason, and for the next few days, eight people prayed with all their souls to one Angel. Mary even drew symbols on their arms in Sharpie to ‘give them a boost’. 

“How do we know if he gets the...message?” Benny asked at lunch the next Monday. 

Sam shrugged. “I...don’t know. I figured Cas would...send a sign, or something.”

“Oh great, so we don’t actually know what we’re doing, this is just the only idea you had, huh?” Jo huffed.

“Well, do you have a better idea?” Charlie snapped. “We have to try, and any idea is better than no idea. I say we keep trying, just in case, but in the meantime, we try and come up with a more... _ two _ -way method of communication.”

 

After school, they found themselves at the Winchesters’.

“What are you guys doin’ after graduation? Less than a month!”

“I got into Yale,” Charlie grinned. “Computer sciences.” 

The group cheered, “Why didn’t you tell us?!” Ash asked.

Charlie shrugged. “We were busy with Cas.”

The group continued to discuss for a while, until Jo frowned. “Why did Castiel join the school if he wouldn’t be able to graduate?” 

“He wanted to be around people, learn as much as he could about us...Cas said he’d go to graduation, even if he wouldn’t be able to graduate. He wanted to see us.” Dean, who had stayed silent throughout, almost startled them when he spoke. 

Charlie took his hand in hers and smiled sadly. “Well, you’d better graduate then, huh? He might make it.”

“I wanted to travel after graduation. Do some hunts with mom, or go on a road trip.”

“Do it, that sounds awesome. Send us a postcard from every state you go to.”

“What if Cas comes back, looking for me, and I’m not here? How can he--”

“You can’t let Cas stop you from doing stuff you want, especially when he’s not here!”

“You can’t tell me what to do, Jo; I miss him.”

“Yeah, don’t we all?” 

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes.

They put on a film not long after that, but silently--to themselves--everyone kept praying.


	10. Chapter 10

Graduation came faster than expected. Dean did the cap and gown thing, he let Mary and John and Bobby take a thousand photos, with everyone, even people Dean had only spoken to once.  It passed in a blur, and there were so many people, but Dean couldn't shake the feeling of an empty space, somewhere out there in the crowd.

They had fun, they ate far too much, and then they packed up as many blankets and pillows as they could and took both Ash and John’s pickup trucks and drove them to the forest on the outskirts of Lawrence, where Dean and Sam used to have Easter egg hunts.

They huddled around a campfire, all six of them, eating s’mores and popcorn and telling ghost stories. Dean and Sam had quite a few, most of which they all knew were too close to the truth.

They talked and talked until the dark hours of the morning, when a star, bright and white and fast, shot across the sky. “Ooh! Make a wish!” Charlie cheered, pointing at the star. Then, her hand moved to point to another one, and another.

A meteor shower.

_What meteor falls in Kansas?_

Dean’s eyes widened. He stood, squinting at the stars.

Something whistled. Then, it screamed. There was a bright flash of light, and the group had to look away.

There was the sound of a crash.

The screaming was replaced, slowly, with ebbing, painful sobs.

Above them, stars still fell.

But in front of them, bloodied and broken, Castiel scrambled in an attempt to stand. Instead, he buckled and vomited.

Dean was over him in an instant, pulling him up by putting one of Castiel’s arms around his shoulders.

“Cas!” Sam exclaimed, getting up to help his brother.

Castiel looked up, first at Sam, then at the others, and lastly, to Dean. He spoke, but it was so soft that only Dean could hear over the crackle of the flames.

“ _Hello, Dean. Thank you all for the prayers, they were most helpful._ ”

Dean guided--or maybe dragged--Castiel to the back of one of the trucks, letting him sit on the back.

When Dean saw Castiel’s face, the Angel was crying. Dean rested his hands on Castiel’s cheeks lightly. “Cas, what happened? Are you OK?”

“I was betrayed.” Castiel was having trouble speaking over the sob lodged in his throat. “I-I _trusted_ h-her, and now…” The sob broke loose and Castiel threw his head down, pushing Dean away and getting up shkily, stepping away so none of the group could see him.

“...Who, Cas? What’s happening now?” Benny queried, his voice loud against the night.

Cas flinched, and he laughed, low and dangerous. “ _April_ . One of the Angels, she...She was my...my ‘second-in-command’. The...the Robin to my Batman. A-And she _tried to kill me_.”

“Cas, you’re OK now. Everything’s gonna be OK--”

“ _Don’t you say that to me! Don’t say that!”_  Castiel screamed, spinning and storming closer to Dean, trapping him in front of the truck. “ _I missed you so much! I missed this! You taught me how to_ care _and it almost got me_ killed _!”_

Dean stared into Castiel’s eyes, and spoke in a whisper. “It’s not a bad thing to care, Cas. I care about you. Is that a bad thing?”

Castiel scoffed and rolled his eyes. In a split second, he moved closer, and trapped Dean’s lips with his own. Just when Dean reacted, he pulled away. “I missed you _so much_. You made me forget what Heaven was like. I was betrayed because you taught me _weakness:_ how to fall in love, with humanity, with--with _you_.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that, so Castiel continued. “I told you i’d come back, and then I feel _nothing_ but your _sorrow_ and your _longing_ for _months,_ like you didn’t trust me to keep my word. Well, Dean, I kept my promise, how are you feeling now?”

Dean was breathing heavily. “C-Can’t you tell? You can see my soul, right?”

Castiel huffed an angry laugh, and stepped away. “No, no I can’t _see your soul_ , Dean. I--”

“ _Castiel!”_ It was Jo that screamed. Castiel span around.

A woman, tall and dark, stared at him, eyes glowing a surreal blue. “Castiel. You thought I’d let you get away? I’ll murder you, you knew that. But I think I’ll kill them, first. Make you _watch_.” She strode forward and pulled out a pistol, old but polished. She aimed at Cas, but then swerved and pointed at Dean.

She pulled the trigger to release a sickening _bang_.

Dean never felt the shot, because Castiel moved faster.

The Angel fell to the ground and _screamed_ , squirming on the ground. Something under his skin glowed, fritzed, and went out, but not before he released a mighty blue blast, right at Raphael, who fell like a brick in a breeze, landing on singed wings.

Castiel kept his eyes open long enough to see Raphael die. Then, he closed his eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

The first thing Castiel felt was breath, flooding his lungs. The light was too bright when he opened his eyes and for a moment he thought he was still in Heaven, and a feeling of slick dread crawled up his throat.

Then, he heard Dean’s voice, and bright green eyes came into view, framed by a freckled face and light brown-ish hair.

“Cas! Cas, it’s OK, you’re OK, it’s me, you’re safe, Raphael is dead.”

Cas stared at Dean until he absorbed the information. “ _Dean_.”

“‘M so sorry, Cas, I’m so sorry you lost the war because of me, please, it’s---”

“What? I-I didn’t ‘lose the war because of you’, Dean--”

“Yes, yeah, ‘cause-’cause you said that you were betrayed ‘cause I taught you _feelings_ or some shit, an’ I’m sorry, I-”

“ _Dean_ ! I didn’t lose the war because of you, because I _didn’t lose_.”

Dean paused, his brow furrowed. “B-But...you fell from Heaven--all those stars, they...they were Angels, right?”

“I chose to. We all chose to. I taught the Angels what it was like, here, and they chose to fall. We couldn’t fight each other forever, Dean. I wasn’t the only one unsatisfied.”

“...Why couldn’t you see my soul?”

“‘Falling’ isn’t just physical, Dean. We lose out power. We become _human._ And I--I used the last of my grace, my power, to stay alive. But...I think it’s gone, now; I can see your physical form--you...You’re beautiful, Dean. Your eyes are so _green_ …”

“What...What about Jimmy?”

Castiel was silent. “He died when Raphael shot me. He’s in Heaven. Someplace better, that’s what he wanted. I guess that’s what he got.” Castiel wiped his face with his hand. “I...I’m hungry. And I have to use the bathroom.”

That startled a laugh from Dean. “Yeah, you’re human, alright.”

"Oh, and Dean, I...I'm sorry for what I said; you didn't teach me weakness. It's a strength. To _feel_   like this, I mean."

"Yeah, Cas," Dean hummed softly, "I'm glad you think so."

  
  


It turned out that being fully human was a lot more complicated than Castiel had thought, but Dean and Sam were there to help him, as were their friends, at least during the holiday before college began. When Dean took him back to their house, he was surprised by John and Mary’s hospitality--any hostility they may have harboured disappeared when Dean's fingers slotted though Castiel's, and their cheeks went pink.

He stayed with them, and slept in Dean’s bed rather than the basement.

One night, or maybe early morning, he rolled over to face Dean's silouhette in the comforting darkness of their room. _"Dean?"_ He whispered.

" _What, Cas?"_

_“I think I can feel them.”_

_“What?”_

_“The other Fallen Angels._ I think I can feel them, somehow. They’re lost, and alone. They need help.”

Dean's eyes slid open, instantly concerned. “What do you want to do about it?”

“...You said you wanted to travel. A…’ _road trip_ ’. Could...If you didn’t mind, I could come with you, and we could find them. Help them. Teach them, the way you taught me.”

“But with less of _this_ , right?” Dean pulled Castiel closer, kissing him gently.

“Yes, less of this.” They felt each other smile.

“Let’s do it, Cas.”

They fell asleep together, with many years (and miles) in front of them.


End file.
